Lemonade, Summer and Questions
by taboo-starbow
Summary: Lemonade, like a certain Irishman, has a ridiculous habit of making Dean’s mouth water. Combining the two is just plain mean! Dean x Seamus fluffy happy romance.


Hey guys, my name's Shay (short for Seamus), I'm a gay boy that's randomly decided to write Harry Potter yaoi. Specifically of Seamus and Dean. Favouritest pairing ever, and the fact that I share a name with one of them helps. Umm, I don't know what I should put in the opening of a story, but… well, I plan to write as many fics as I can, because I looooove this pairing and I swear I've read everything about them that's on at least twice… and there must! Be! More! Honestly, if you've written Deamus and posted it here, I can guarantee that I've read it. xD Uh, so yeah, PLEASE read and review, because even though I really want to write lots of stories, I probably won't if I don't get positive reviews… ;; Confidence issues, people! Uh… is this good for an intro? ;;

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Harry Potter, I would have made the reuniting scene in the last book something more like "Dean!" "AAAHHHH –TACKLE- -WUV- -NSFW-" … so yeah. I just own the fic here.

**Rating: **Um… PG… I guess. No smut today.

**Notes:** I started writing this with no story ideas at all, so I wrote down ten words and numbered them. The words were: Love, Friendship, Painting, Game, Date, Colour, Lemonade, Phone, Warm, Cold. Then I rolled a ten sided dice. I got number 7, which is lemonade, and this is the story that came out of it. … Yeah, I'm weird coming up with ideas, aren't I? I wanna write nine other stories with the other words though, do you think I should? … are you even reading this? ;; -shush up-

**Warnings: **Kisses and cuddles and … I guess I tease Ron a bit couple of times. I love him, so it's okay. Also, am I the only one that finds it weird that this plot is about lemons and there's no sex?

**Summary:** Lemonade, like a certain Irishman, has a ridiculous habit of making Dean's mouth water. Combining the two is just plain mean! Dean x Seamus fluffy happy romance.

OKAY I'M GETTING TO THE FIC NOW JEEZ I TAKE FOREVER.

--

"Summer is sooo hot."

Well, that's probably not the smartest thing Dean Thomas has ever said. Give us some more insight, Dean! I'm so confused, what's the temperature like in winter?! I know it's a lot to ask of you, but if anyone can tell me, it's you! With that sharp brain of yours, there's no question that can go unanswered!

Similarly, Seamus Finnigan's response was roughly the same. After a frankly shocking amount of sarcasm and wit, Dean was left regretting he ever said anything.

"Dean, what do you mean? Summer is hot. I don't understand such stunningly ridiculous observations!" Seamus waved a hand toward the sky. "I suppose I DO get it. A little. Summer is hot, I understand that, but… Summer is SOOO hot? Goodness, Dean, I just don't understand all the enthusiasm. My feeble mind just can't wrap itself around the extent of how hot Summer exactly is. Can you describe this "sooo" in any other measurement? How many kilograms of heat is it?"

"Shhhh," Dean mumbled before yawning, stretching out on the grass the pair were lying on. Summer vacation was wonderful, even with the heat – which, according to his friend, can be measured in kilograms. Seamus' brain is on par with Dean's. However, the heat had obviously taken its toll. The two were sixteen year old boys! They should be up and about, filled to the brim with energy and hormones, but instead they were in a half-asleep buzz by the lake near Seamus' house. It was too hot to run around. Hell, it was too hot for Dean to even draw – not that he could, seeing as Seamus had stolen his sketchbook for a makeshift pillow.

"It's rather surprising," Dean started, cutting off mid-sentence with a yawn. "It's rather surprising," he started again, "that you can talk so much. As we've clearly discussed, it is in fact hot, and the fact that you have any energy at all simply amazes me."

"My name is Seamus!" Seamus replied, pointing up at the sky with his free arm – the other was safely tucked under Dean's sketch book, making his 'pillow' extra strong. "Seamus the awesome! It's guaranteed that awesome people talk a lot. Except you, Dean. You don't talk a lot, but you're still awesome. … Well, there's also Ron Weasley. He talks a lot, and he's not awesome. Maybe my theory needs more work…"

"Aw, mean." Dean sat up from the grassy hill, staring over the calm water of the lake. Ah, how refreshing that water looked. He'd have to go for a swim later. Too much effort to go for a swim right now.

Seamus sat up next to Dean, lazily swinging his arms around his friend's neck. "Do you love me?"

Dean's cheeks prickled as they so often did whenever Seamus decided to so openly display affection. It was even worse when he did it in the middle of a lesson at school. "No. It's hot. Get off."

"Fiiiiiiine." Seamus lazily flopped over on the grass again, absent mindedly scratching his stomach under his shirt.

"Go get me some lemonade," Seamus mumbled, waving Dean towards the kitchen.

"Effort!" Dean whined, falling back on the grass with a dull thud. He mentally cursed himself for such a dumb move as his eyes watered; dirt is hard, and hard is painful when you fall on it as fast as you can.

"No!" Seamus stood up with a gust of wind, attempting to lift Dean by the arms.

Dean yawned, flopping like a lifeless doll as his friend tried to hoist him up. Damn it, Seamus, if you have that much energy, get your own lemonade!

"Argh! Dean! You're heavy! You great fat lump." Seamus put on a dramatic sob, and Dean sighed, standing up.

Hesitantly, he ruffled his friend's sandy blonde hair. "Back when you were fourteen I ruffled your hair and dandruff went EVERYwhere." Seamus glared at him when he was reminded. "Yeah? Back when you were fourteen, you had pimples all over your face!" retorted the Irishman. Dean laughed and nodded. "Though I'm sure we can go on about past flaws all day, I'm going to go get some lemonade."

"Hooray!" Seamus clapped his hands, falling like dead weight back on to grass. Dean was filled with regret and jealousy almost instantly – regret because he had to go and get something to drink while his friend lazed around, jealousy that Seamus didn't seem at all hurt when he landed on the ground, unlike when Dean tried earlier.

Making his way up the hill was a tedious project. There weren't many trees in the garden besides the giant wisteria that Seamus was presently dozing under, so without any shade the sun's attack hit Dean at full force. As Dean's legs turned to a mix of lead and jelly after walking up the slope for under twenty seconds, it occurred to him that he'd much rather be going for a swim right now.

Knocking on the door to the house, Seamus' mother let him inside. With a quick tut on how 'young boys should stay hydrated if they're going to stay out in the boiling heat, you two will cook out there', Seamus' mum fetched a pitcher of lemonade. She was like Dean's second mother; just like Dean's was to Seamus.

Looking out the window to the lake as Seamus' mother fetched glasses from the cabinet, Dean noticed his best friend taking off his shirt. Under normal circumstances, his jaw wouldn't have dropped as it did, but it was such an unexpected thing to see, Dean didn't know how else to react.

He knew he should have looked away, but he didn't know why he knew. He always saw his friend shirtless; hell, it takes half the dormitory to convince Shay to keep his clothes on when he sleeps at Hogwarts. Plus, it was hot, it was perfectly understandable! But still, Dean felt a lump in his throat and a burning in his chest and cheeks as he forced himself to look away from the window. He thanked Seamus' mum for the lemonade, then headed back to the lake.

When he reached the bottom of the hill, he noticed his friend was nowhere to be seen. "Seamus, you better not be hiding from me, you git. I just carried down a tray of lemonade and if you're behind a bush somewhere so you don't have to help pour the drinks…"

His Irish friend waved at him from the lake, and Dean laughed. So that's why he was taking off all his clothes. Dean set down the lemonade on a piece of flat earth, then paused, noticing the pile of clothes laying on top of his sketchbook.

"… Seamus."

"YEAAAAAAAH?"

"You don't have to yell."

"BUT IT'S FUUUUUUN."

Dean paused, stared, shook his head, and started again.

"Seamus. Why are your clothes on my sketchbook? Scratch that, why are ALL of your clothes on my sketchbook? If you take off your shirt, that's one thing, but when your pants are on the one place that I concentrate my art on, it sort of demeans it… Doesn't it mean my art needs more clothes on? It's not like I draw naked people or anything, so you don't need to like… dress it up… … wait, and I don't want to know what other clothes you have here besides shirt and pants! Aaah! Seamus! Don't get naked on my sketchbook!"

Seamus splashed in the water of the lake, coughing and spluttering when he got water up his nose. After a moment of regaining his composure, he responded to Dean with a laugh – which caused him to inhale MORE water, and have another coughing fit. Dean waited patiently for his friend to reply, content in watching him suffer. … Was Dean a sadist? It was just funny, that's all! Besides, there shouldn't be nakedness anywhere NEAR his art. … Why was he more concerned about that then his best friend's possible nudity?

"No," Seamus blurted out finally, "It just means you should draw sexy Irish booty. But I still have undies on, jeez."

"Well, that's good," mumbled Dean, ignoring the first part of his friend's reply. Wait… was he jealous? Was that it? Was he jealous that his sketch book got to be really close to Seamus as he stripped?! Was Dean… honestly… jealous… of his own art?!

Dean slapped himself on the forehead lightly, laughing. Right. Jealous. Of a sketch book. That's rich. Taking off his shirt and throwing it haphazardly on the ground, he grabbed a glass of lemonade and waded into the lake to swim next to his friend.

The Irish boy dipped half his face into the water, blowing bubbles out his nose as his eyes peeked at Dean. "How come you've got yourself a glass of lemonade and I don't?" Seamus pouted his bottom lip, and Dean rolled his eyes. "I brought it down, so if you want it, go and get it."

Seamus shrugged, choosing instead to steal Dean's glass and have a sip. Dean let it happen, but after half a mouthful, he took the drink back. "No. It makes my mouth water too much to share. Go get your own."

Seamus shrugged, lazily floating in the water.

For a while, the two were perfectly content how they were. Seamus was entirely comfortable to float 3/4ths naked next to his best friend, watching the clouds and making comments about what he saw. "There are a whole bunch of giant dotty clouds up there, they're like Ron's freckles, taking up an entire face. Um, pretend that section of sky is his face, I guess. Ooh, and that weird looking cloud there is his pig nose. Hehe."

Dean was entirely happy to zone out as Seamus moved on to constantly make fun of the clouds that looked like everyone at Hogwarts. The dark teen was enjoying the mouth-wateringly awesome lemonade, enjoying the view of Seamus, and floating in the perfectly still water.

Wait... enjoying the view of Seamus?

Well… Dean wasn't dumb, contrary to what one would think if they saw his comments on the summer's heat. He knew that if he was enjoying looking at Seamus like he was, it was just because… uh… teenage hormones! Yeah, that's it! Dean certainly wasn't gay. Nope, nope, certainly not. He liked girls! Like… uh… what's her name?

Dean racked his brains, forcing himself to think of something other than the fake outlines of abs he had been staring at for the past five minutes. He liked girls, that's right! That's what he was thinking about! He liked… ah, what was her name? That… that… girl… um… Ginny! That's it! He thought she was kind of cute! M-maybe!

Well, he and Ginny had broken up ages ago. He probably can't use her as an example, that's the reason he's not attracted to her anymore. She was tainted goods! Or something.

What about other girls in his year? Um… Hermione! He and her were pretty good friends, even if he didn't find her particularly attractive! She was good looking, Dean thought, but he wasn't at all attracted to her.

… suddenly, memories of Hermione surfaced.

Dean was eleven years old, he and Seamus had become such wonderful friends that he had already forgotten about the friends he had made up until he went to Hogwarts. It may sound like an awful thing to say, but he and Seamus hit it off so well that nobody else could compare.

"Hermione!"

Dean had rushed towards her in a corridor on the way to class. The two were alone, as they were both running late for whatever reason, and Dean had to talk to her.

"I… I'm under a curse, I think!" he gripped at his tie, and Hermione raised one eyebrow. Ah, eleven years old – Hermione still had that bushy hair that, frankly, could have used a comb if it wasn't so knotted and tangled and painful looking. She didn't have her curly, silky locks for a year or two.

"A… curse?" Hermione looked at her watch. She needed to get to class, but she wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to help a fellow Gryffindor out. The fact that Dean had come to her made her smug; it seemed like she was getting a reputation of being the smart girl.

"You're smart, so I need your help! You can tell me what it is." Dean paused, anxiously fingering at his collar. "I… it's Seamus. Every time I look at him, my heart goes all BANG and when I draw, lately, I'm only drawing him, and I think he's done something to me because I just keep thinking about him and he makes my cheeks feel like they're going to go red but they DON'T and maybe that's just because my skin is dark and I can't see it, but if it's not, I think he's possessed me or something!"

Hermione blinked. It took her a moment to track the sudden waterfall of words, but when she did, her haughty grin doubled in length.

"Oh, that's not a curse."

"B-buh?!"

"You'll know when you're older," said Hermione with a smirk, petting Dean on the head, and rushing off to class.

… back in the present, Dean was staring at Seamus with a look of absolute terror. He had forgotten all about that. Oh god, oh god! Hermione must have been thinking of him as "that stupid boy with a gay crush" for the past six years! Arraraghghghh!!

Dean hid his face under the water, fearing that the lake would turn to steam around him. He was blushing nuclear! Double nuclear! It was like the sun had decided to live in Dean's face, or ten suns, or a hundred suns! A million nuclear suns were living inside Dean's face and turning the lake water to steam! Oh Merlin, how could he have asked Hermione that?! Scratch that, how could he have forgotten about it?! Those feelings were still there, damn it! He knew it! He knew he was weird! He knew he shouldn't have cuddled Seamus during the night when he was cold! Damn it! Damnitdamnitdamnit!

"Uh… dude?" Seamus had stolen Dean's lemonade again, and was sipping with a smile. "You look like you're about to explode like a volcano there. Are you okay?"

Dean lifted his head, let out a manly bark of a laugh (somewhat reminiscent of Sirius Black), and nodded. "C-certainly, my lord!"

"Your lord? Eh?" Seamus stared, finishing the rest of Dean's lemonade and letting the glass float in front of him. "Well, whatever, I guess… maybe you're hot, do you want to go inside? Come to think of it, we can just get mum to use a spell to make it cool, right?"

Seamus began to swim towards the edge of the lake, and Dean watched him go. "Uh… sure—Wait, ahh, don't get out of the lake!"

"Hmm?" Seamus had already made his way onto the grass, and Dean was left as a writhing, blushing, dying piece of death at the image he saw.

Seamus was, indeed, only wearing his underwear, and as expected of the Irishman's flirty nature, it was particularly short. Leaving Dean to stare at a mostly naked, wet boy who he had began to see in an entirely new light a few minutes ago after recalling that piece of buried memory.

"Put some clothes on! J-jeez!" Dean folded his arms, turning the other way.

Seamus raised an eyebrow, but shrugged, donning his shirt and jeans. Dean dared to turn around and nodded with approval, clawing his way out of the lake shortly after. Throwing his shirt over his head, Dean looked back at the water with a sigh. He knew, instinctively, that whenever he looked at this lake again, he'll remember the awkwardness of Hermione and his six year old conversation.

"I don't want to go inside though," Dean mumbled, looking up at That Hill. "It's such a steep walk. I've already been up there today." Dean flopped by the wisteria, resting against the giant trunk. "Let's just talk here. Okay?"

"I agree," Seamus responded. "I hate that hill. Mum should magic up an escalator for us."

Dean laughed at the imagery and poured himself a glass of lemonade. "Ahhhh… hey, you had my lemonade before," he pointed at Seamus with an accusatory finger.

"You're a speedy one," sighed Seamus, stealing Dean's glass again, causing him to twitch and pour another drink.

"So," Dean said, facing his friend, attempting to ignore those billions upon billions of ultra nuclear suns killing his insides.

"So!" Seamus repeated, and Dean found himself blushing even harder at his accent. He never noticed, but it was actually rather cute… gah, why was Dean thinking like this?! He had more important things to think about! Like lemonade. Freakin' amazing lemonade.

"Got any crushes?"

Dean spluttered his lemonade back into his glass.

"I mean you and Ginny haven't been dating for a while, and you haven't shown any interests in girls… Unless those looks you've been giving me aren't just jokes."

"HA. HA. HA." Dean skulled his lemonade. He and Seamus always jokingly flirt about in Hogwarts, and similarly they make jokes about the jokes. It was just a routine. But now, damn it, it was killing the poor boy!

"Aww, c'mon," Seamus sighed, taking a drink. "I'll tell you my crush if you tell me yours."

Dean arched an eyebrow. "Oh boy. A Seamus Finnigan crush. Do you think you can bear telling me who Girl of the Week is?"

Seamus poked his tongue out. "Nah… I mean the person I've been crushing on since I was eleven."

Dean blinked, paused, and thought. "Ron? Oh god, that would make sense! Because you're always talking about him in a really mean manner, but it's just to hide your feelings because you love him, and that's really sweet and all I guess but I mean it's not like I'm prejudiced or anything because I might be gay too but this is a little bit surprising and I didn't expect it so yeah I'll be the best man at your wedding if you like, but--"

"Wait."

"W-what?"

"You might be gay?"

Dean paused, stared, and shook his head. "P-pshaw! I was just… making you feel better because of your… new found affections…"

Seamus blinked again, paused, rubbed his bottom lip with his finger and said "huh", quietly, under his breath. "You know," he said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but…"

Dean gripped his pants. Oh god, is he going to say something bad? Is he going to cut off all ties to their friendship? Damn it, Dean knew he was weird, but why did he say that?! This is why he always stays quiet! This is why he focuses on his drawings! If he speaks, he stumbles! Even to Seamus who he's most comfortable with, he let his secret-of-fifteen-minutes slip out!

"… but, I'm less surprised about that then I am about the fact that you're talking so much today." Seamus scratched the back of his head and laughed. "Kinda weird, y'know? Makes the talkative people awesome theory work…" Seamus shrugged. "So, got a boyfriend?"

Dean's jaw dropped. That… was a surprising reaction. … Wait, he wasn't surprised?! Dean took offense to that. He was straight! … until a couple of minutes ago, at least!

"N… no, I don't. If I did I would have told you."

"That would have been weird seeing as I only just found at you're gay," Seamus laughed. He shrugged, slinking his arms over Dean's shoulders. "No worries. I'll still flirt with you in public even if it does excite you."

"As if anyone would be excited over you," retorted Dean, with that friendly hate that the pair often pretend to have.

"Well, if you get a boyfriend, I have to be the first to know," yawned the Irish boy, cuddling his friend with affection.

"Of course," Dean grinned. He was content. His friend didn't hate him, and he hasn't bothered him about crushes.

"SO," Seamus jumped up, and Dean was once again disgusted that his friend had such energy on a day that was meant for dying peacefully under the shade.

Seamus shook his head, his hands on his hips in a very good impression of Dean's mother. "Young son of mine," he said in Dean's mum's voice. "You should know not to laze around on a day like this. We have to make use of it. With… truth or dare!"

"I hate that game," Dean muttered, pouring himself another glass of lemonade.

"Yeah, okay." Seamus thought. "Spin the bottle?"

"What."

"Worth a try," Seamus laughed. Dean laughed with a sense of awkwardness, quite unsure how to react to jokes like this now.

"Twenty questions!" Seamus pointed. "That way you can have your precious "talking" without using effort."

Dean paused and stared. "Isn't that the same as truth or dare or spin the bottle—well, I guess there are 'dares' and there's kissing and bottle spinning… your idea of effort confuses me. Kissing is effort but getting up and dancing like you're doing now is fine?"

Seamus nodded. "Okay, twenty questions. Let's see…" he paused, and then grinned. "Okay. I'll think of my crush, and you ask twenty questions about them. Then you can think about your crush and I'll ask twenty for them!"

"I enjoy the fact that I've never specified if I have a crush," Dean sighed. Seamus shook his head. "No. You're a teenager!" he responded. "Teenagers have crushes by the basketful. It's, like, the law, or somethin'."

Dean shrugged, taking a sip of his drink as Seamus paced around. "Okay, I want to ask first. Screw what I said before. First question, Dean!" he pointed at his friend. "Is your crush a boy or a girl?"

The black teenager stared at his friend. "A… boy. Idiot. Aren't you supposed to only ask yes or no questions?"

"Oh, good. I was worried that you didn't know what gay meant." Seamus kept pacing, thinking, ignoring Dean's comment. "Blonde or brunette or black hair or red hair?"

"Blonde. Again, you're only supposed to ask yes or no questions in this game…"

"Ooh, a blondie. If you had said red, I would have made fun of you for liking a Weasley. You've already had one."

Dean glared.

"He's at Hogwarts, I'll assume, so what grade is he in?" Seamus continued, unconcerned about the daggers being glared into him.

Dean sighed and shook his head. "This is stupid."

Seamus stopped pacing to stomp his foot. "No, you're doing it wrong. What grade?!"

"Ours!" Dean snapped, blushing quickly.

"…"

Dean bit his lip. Seamus' silence must have meant he figured it out. Oh, god.

"Blonde… in our year?" his voice was caught in his throat. Tears filled Seamus' eyes.

Dean quickly stood up, knocking over the lemonade. Seamus hated him. Oh god, he thought he was a freak, didn't he?!

"B… but the only blonde in our year… is…"

Dean's fists clenched, his eyes burning. He had to run, he had to—

"You… like Draco?! DRACO MALFOY?!" Seamus sobbed. "Draco! Who the hell would like Draco?! Oh my GOD. Dean. I knew you were gay. But that does NOT excuse bad taste." Seamus was now buckled over laughing, and Dean was left in a confused mess.

"W-wha…" If Dean's skin was more pale than it was, his face would be akin to an overripe tomato. He's going to get heatstroke soon, honestly.

"N-no! It's not Malfoy! Dear GOD. Malfoy?! He's probably off shagging Harry anyway, and if I got in the way of The Boy Who Lived he'd mysteriously forget to defend me when he kills You Know Who because like, really, a boy scorned is not to be crossed—"

"Oh, it's not Malfoy?" Seamus sighed in relief. "Good. I mean, he's pretty, but he's kinda… ferret-y…"

"Be that as it may," Dean folded his arms. "I would thank you to stop the game now."

"But I still have more questions!"

Dean sniffed, paused, and looked back. "I… you haven't asked a yes or no question. You asked one earlier today, before we went swimming." Dean's face tried to go red. "But that's it. That's the only one I'll answer."

Seamus blinked. "Huh…?" he folded his arms, a look of intense concentration on his face, and thought. Hard. "Uh… get me some lemonade?" Seamus paused and scratched the side of his head. "What. Dean. Who the hell would remember something that I said earlier today? I mean all I've done is ask you for lemonade and then you went up the hill to get it and then we went swimming…"

Dean twitched and shook his head. "That's not it."

…

Realization dawned on Seamus' face, and Dean began to wish he hadn't given his friend this opportunity.

"Do you love me?"

Dean choked on his saliva and shook his head. "Th-THAT'S certainly not it—"

"But it _is, _isn't it?" Seamus grinned. "That's the only question I asked you today. I, um, think. That was a really weird hint of yours, Dean. So! Do you love meee?"

Dean bit the inside of his cheek, hard enough to leave a mark, and shook his head. "Ahh! Forget I said anything."

"You have to answer!" Seamus pointed at. "Or I'll hate you for life!"

…

"N-nngh! Shut up! You're such… such a… such a…" Dean struggled to come up with an insult, something which made the corners of Seamus' mouth twitch into a smile. "You're such a… jackaninny!"

…

Silence.

And then a burst of laughter.

"Ahahaha, Dean! You're really bad at this. This… confession thing. You can't say "I'm gay" and "I'm hinting at liking you" and then "You're a jackaninny". Jeez." Seamus wiped away tears of mirth. "It's a shame. I would have told you who my crush was if it wasn't for that."

Dean's eye twitched and he pointed at Seamus. "No! That's not fair! You have to say it now!" What Dean didn't mention was that he was hoping, maybe, quietly, beneath all the pointing and yelling, that Seamus felt the same way as him.

"We're playing twenty questions, so you have to guess."

"No, your face is playing twenty questions! Answer me properly, Seamus!"

"Teasing you is fun."

"I hate you," Dean sniffed, folding his arms and looking away. Ah, Dean. The sort of boy who is just so manly and silent and thoughtful until you make him flustered. Honestly, he was so quiet and reserved half the time that Seamus could barely believe this was his best friend.

"This is a cute side of you," Seamus commented with a grin. "This… girly side of you. Very sweet."

Dean's mouth fell open and he stumbled over his words again. "I… am… not… girly. I just… like men. Besides, I never said I wasn't the one on top."

"Well, we'll have to discuss that when we go to bed together."

For once, Dean didn't laugh at the flirtings. He didn't smile. He retracted back as if he had been stung, and, in a voice so quiet, he told Seamus not to joke around like that.

"Not right now, Seamus. Just… don't joke like that after I've told you such things. Okay?"

Seamus continued to smile unaffected, and brought his taller friend into a hug. "The boy that I like is in our grade. Guess about him. And, no, it's not Ron Weasley."

"Thank god," smiled Dean. His chest tightened a bit. Seamus wouldn't be saying such things if he didn't mean Dean, right…? Seamus is a good friend. He wouldn't tease Dean with such hints of "I might like you" if he meant someone else.

…

Wait, boy?!

Dean pointed at Seamus… again. "You said boy! It's me, right?!"

"Ah, you have to guess. Twenty questions."

"No! You said boy! You mean me, don't you?!"

Seamus grinned. "Twenty questions."

Dean's fists and jaw tightened.

"Gah! Uhm, okay. Black hair or blonde hair?!"

"Yes or no questions only." Seamus giggled at Dean's scream of frustration.

"Black hair?!"

"Yes."

"Dark skin?!"

"Yup"

"So it's me! I'm the only one that fills these things!" Dean nodded with triumph.

"Eighteen more questions."

"GAH. NO." Dean shook Seamus by the shoulders, causing the blonde boy to laugh.

"I'm going to keep talking until you guess. Lalala. Eighteen more questions. Stop staring at me with a look of disgust, Dean. You're wasting time. Lalalala. Talkiiiiing—"

Dean cut his friend off with a firm kiss. For such a clumsy attempt at kissing to shut his friend up, it was oddly… soft. And sweet. Seamus tasted like lemonade, which, frankly, just made Dean all the happier. His heart was light, his pulse was racing, and his stomach was doing a ridiculous amount of somersaults.

Seamus pulled away and grinned. "I never said it was you, though."

"Say it." Dean's brow furrowed, kissing Seamus again.

"How do you expect me to say it when you kiss me?" huffed Seamus when they pulled apart.

"I'll never do it again if you don't say it," Dean sulked.

The irish boy nodded, thinking. "Okay… then… ask me. What I asked you."

Dean blinked and smiled. "Do you love me?"

Seamus laughed. "Nah."

"What."

"Sorry. Just had to tease you again. I do."

With that, the two boys kissed for a third time – and Dean's laziness showed. When they were up to the fourth kiss, Dean slumped onto the grass and pulled his friend – no, his lover – with him. Ahh, the summer.

The day, by now, had reached late afternoon. The sky was turning orange, and the heat of the day was ebbing into a dull warmth. Crickets and cicadas were battling each other for noise, but the insects were tuned out to the boys who had resumed their kiss war.

"It's warm here," Dean mumbled, cuddling up to Seamus. "I like it here. I want to stay here forever."

"It's not warm," Seamus poked his friend's nose. "It's sooo warm."

"… Don't make fun of me," whined Dean, kissing Seamus between his neck and collar bone.

The rest of the summer was spent like this. Each day they practically lived by the lake, and rarely did they ever swim. Most of the time they were sipping lemonade and making fun of clouds, to be honest. At the end of summer it was with heavy hearts as they boarded the train to Hogwarts. But, unsurprisingly, the year to come would just be filled with kisses between classes and a ridiculous amount of lemonade.

And Dean would have to remember to thank Hermione. That advice six years ago was amazingly helpful.

--

So? How was it? My first fic… I'm nervous submitting it! If I get good reviews, I'll definitely write more. :3 It's odd writing fanfiction with Seamus in it; we share the same name so I have to resist writing "Shay" or I'll feel like I'm talking about myself…! Hehe. So um… Yeah! Review? Pleaaaaase? You'll make me super happy if you do. And… uh… I guess I'll stop writing now!


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